


Postcards from the Edge

by skargasm



Series: Taming the Muse [17]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, LJ Prompt, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-08
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-02-07 22:35:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1916511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skargasm/pseuds/skargasm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A postcard changed his life...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Guiding Light

[ ](http://imgur.com/PmTu7FA)

* * *

He wasn’t even sure if he’d be welcomed. Well, he kinda thought he would be—that postcard had been pretty clear in its invitation. But he didn’t quite know completely if it meant the same to Derek as it did to him. Derek still wasn’t the most verbose of people. Hence the trip.

The God knows how many miles through scenic countryside, a postcard on the dash of the jeep acting as a guiding light. He’d barely stopped for bathroom breaks or food—once the decision was made, he’d felt an amazing scene of urgency. 

Saying goodbye to Scott had been harder than he’d expected—the losses they’d experienced had affected all of them and saying goodbye was going to be hard for quite some time. But his buddy had understood—finally. That had been a bit of a conversation.

“Derek?!”

“Come on, Scott, you can’t pretend you didn’t know something was going on when he left.”

“I just—I gotta tell ya, Stiles, I was hoping it was a misread on my behalf because I just don’t get it.”

“Really? He comes back, acts like your big bro and is pretty much instrumental in helping get rid of the nogitsune! Then, note the dramatic pause, everything that happened with Berserkers, Kate, going through losing his family _all over again_ —he’s been through hell, walked back again for **US**!”

“Yeah I know but—“

“Berserkers Scott. Seventeen year old Derek dived in there when he had no memory and okay, got his ass kicked, but he was in there fighting for you. After we lied about his family. Even YOU said you couldn’t get over that.” 

“So what is this—some sympathy thing? You feel _sorry_ for him?” 

“Bite your tongue! Emotional baggage aside—and a year’s worth of therapy has made a huge dent in that can I say—Derek is all kinds of hot. There is no pity required to be climbing all up on that!”

“Verging on way too much information!”

“I’m just saying that what happened before he left—it wasn’t from a place of pity. Which is why we did this—the long distance emailing and writing—to see if we could, if, well—“ 

“For real? Derek and—“

“Scott, this is like up there with the epic-est love story ever. This could be a romantic story to tell your grandkids—one of your betas and your best friend living furrily ever after. I would just really like to know that my best friend approved of my choice in life partner.”

“Damn it, Stiles, I—“

“I approved of you and Kira—you know, when you were all feeling guilty about moving on—so you **owe** me. I—dude, I think I love him.” There was a heavy silence whilst Stiles realised that that was the first time he had said out loud and Scott stared at him, eye brows beetled in thought, obviously making his decision. 

“If he makes you happy—and keeps you safe—then I guess it’s up to you. Just—no details okay? And make sure you guys move back here—I don’t want you off living on the edge of the world okay? School, your family, all of this—you come back, okay?”

“Thanks Scotty! You really rock, you know? Brother from another mother and everything like that! Speaking of parents, I need you to keep an eye on my dad—I told him I was going and I know he instantly had visions of burgers and curly fries and pastries—he was practically speed dialling the pizza place by the time I closed the door on the jeep.”

“Yeah, no problem. Say hi to Derek from me, yeah? And tell him Kira has missed him and wants him back here too—if it helps any and don’t ask me why. She seems to like everybody!”

~ o o O o o ~

So here he was, recognising some of the scenery from Derek’s descriptions. For such an uncommunicative bastard, he’d managed to describe his surroundings with eloquent and simply beauty. Stiles found himself smiling when he passed the local coffee shop, remembering Derek’s telling of his less than successful conversations with the taciturn owner. That was the pizza place that happily delivered the monster-sized, best stuffed crust pizza all the way out to Derek’s den; that would be the bookstore that Derek was almost singlehandedly keeping in business with his orders for books. It all came to life before his very eyes as he followed the meticulous directions that had arrived by email after he’d acknowledged receipt of the postcard. Acknowledged receipt and acknowledged reciprocation of the feelings silently expressed.

The road became bumpy, more of a dirt track the closer he got to coastline and he had to concentrate on driving and not reminiscing. The forested area wasn’t as abundant as the Preserve in Beacon Hills but it was still beautiful. He was almost positive that he saw eyes watching him from between the trees, but he couldn’t say whether it was wolves or other creatures. Eyes that were glowing yellow-a beautiful amber yellow that had scared and confused Derek at first but that Stiles had felt was well deserved. 

And suddenly there it was. It was picture perfect—exactly like the postcard including stormy seas, tall and imposing against the dark stormy sky—it was practically the front cover of a Gothic novel but strangely enough, not in a bad way. It was dramatic and pretty and the perfect place for a dark, brooding werewolf to find himself. But the postcard said the brooding had been analysed and examined, poked and prodded, Dr Freuded so that Derek finally felt like he was ready to move forward. And he wanted to move forward with Stiles. Or so Stiles hoped.

* * *


	2. Getting here was only half the fun...

Pulling up alongside the lighthouse, he smirked at the car Derek had swapped the Toyota Mom car for. Back to his muscle car roots – an impala of all things. Stiles felt slightly guilty—he’d been the one to force-feed Derek marathon sessions watching Supernatural. He should have realised that Derek would fall for the car—it was the Camaro on steroids. It was beautiful though. 

Climbing out of the jeep, he shook his legs out, stretching his arms high to relieve the cramps of hours of driving. The lights were out—the height of irony and the cause of so many jokes in his head that he could barely hold them back—so it would seem that he’d arrived whilst Derek wasn’t home. He couldn’t imagine there would be a key under a rock to let himself in with which meant back into the jeep or striding around outside. Maybe one of those pair of eyes in the forest HAD been Derek, in which case he should be home soon. Not home as in Stiles’ home but home as in where Derek had been living, because this wasn’t Derek’s home and Stiles was here to let him know that. Oh God, this just got more and more complicated the more he thought about it—this is why he preferred talking, it unclogged his brain. Home for the last eleven months and seventeen days. 

A howl broke the quiet and he turned, squinting into the darkness. Derek had said that there wasn’t another wolfpack nearby—the territory was free and there’d been no problems with him moving into the area. The psychiatrist he’d decided to see had been recommended by Chris Argent of all people. Apparently, some hunters needed counselling for some of the things they had seen and done, and a psychiatrist that was aware of the supernatural was invaluable. The fact that this person lived in a neutral area—an out of the way little coastal town—and insisted that Derek move away from the site of all of the trauma and commit to a period of therapy had actually been one of the main things that Stiles approved of. Derek needed time and space away from Beacon Hills—Stiles completely understood that. There hadn’t been a whole lot of happy for Derek in Beacon Hills. This chance to get away, talk it through and deal with his issues sounded like the perfect solution. He just hadn’t expected to miss him so damn much. (There might be a slightly over-large Henley in his wardrobe back home that had inadvertently made its way out of Derek’s closet and into Stiles’ bed. What? It was comfortable to sleep in because Derek and his obscenely massive shoulders had stretched it all out, and Stiles would bet that he’d used his claws to make those convenient little thumb holes that meant the sleeves flopped over your hands. Derek didn’t need to know and the fact that after eleven months it barely smelt of anything but Stiles, sweat and *ahem* possibly other bodily fluids was nothing something he should be judged on. Ever. Shut up).

“Holy shit!” He froze in place, aware that his mouth was gaping open and that he probably looked completely gormless. But there weren’t any other words to use—he was stood by the side of his jeep, staring at a freaking HUGE wolf that seemed to have appeared from nowhere. “Wow, erm, nice little wolfy or not so little because you are freakin’ huge! Just, it would really kill the outstanding romantic vibe that this whole deserted lighthouse has got going on if you decided to, you know, rend me limb from limb. Not like that should give you ideas or maybe use the word kill because we don’t want to put those thoughts into your head—especially if you’re a real wolf because I think Derek has already had murderous thoughts about me. And my body—although I’m kinda hoping his thoughts about my body have changed from murderous because otherwise this whole trip—but you are a totally gorgeous looking thing aren’t you? And so far you haven’t ripped my throat out which I am counting as a good thing, yes I am and WHOA!”

The wolf seemed to be listening to the stream of babble coming from him, head tilted to one side and amber yellow eyes staring at him with an almost human intelligence. Then it began to shimmer, a light that hurt his eyes because it was too damn bright, and the wolf’s shape began to morph and change—moving from four feet to two legs. He knew those shoulders, the slope of that chest moving to the impossibly leanness of that waist, strong thighs as the wolf completed is transition, planted his feet and stood in front of Stiles in all of his beautifully naked glory. 

“Hello Stiles.”

“Hey Sourwolf, how’s it hanging?"

**Author's Note:**

> Banner is by me, created using the Picture Prompt from Taming the Muse. 
> 
> Taming the Muse run 1 : week 203  
> Taming the Muse run 2 : week 60
> 
> First two chapters are complete, third is started. I get the feeling chapter three is going to be predominantly smut!
> 
> * * *


End file.
